


Peekaboo, Dr Pendragon

by Emrys MK (mk_malfoy)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arthur is a doctor, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, M/M, Merlin is his patient, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 06:42:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20652872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mk_malfoy/pseuds/Emrys%20MK
Summary: Arthur prepares for another busy day of seeing patients, but he is not prepared when one of them just so happens to be the man he hooked up with the night before.





	Peekaboo, Dr Pendragon

**Author's Note:**

> This is all down to LFB and the others from Chatzy. LFB made the following comment: 'either that or they pull the sheet over their head and I'm like I know your there' and I said that her words had me seeing visions of Arthur as the doctor and Merlin as his patient, and they were playing peekaboo. So then several of them said... oh yes, write this, MK; do this, etc. So... I did.
> 
> **Disclaimer**: Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Arthur sighed heartily as he set down Mordred Grey’s chart on the counter and reluctantly glanced at Gwen, who was already holding out another. It wasn’t even nine in the morning and already Arthur could see via the patient sign-in window that the waiting room was teeming with sickly children and adults, all coming to him with the hope that he could make them all better.

The fates willing, Arthur would do that very thing.

He rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath as he glanced down at the chart in his hand, momentarily wistful for days-gone-by in Camelot, the place of his birth. There, he had been a part of a large practice, had the very best mates a bloke could hope for, and was the sole proprietor of a beautiful castle that had been in his family for centuries and boasted the distinction of once being the home to the legendary King Arthur.

The current Arthur, not a king, missed it all, even his family, who, at the best of times, could be counted on to inform anyone who listened that Arthur was the golden one who had disappointed them when he’d decided not to carry on his father’s legacy at Pendragon Industries. To hear them tell it, he had broken their hearts and had been the catalyst for his father’s premature death. 

It was an immense load to put on the shoulders of a young man who had idealistic thoughts of healing the world, and Arthur could stand to be around them for only brief periods of time, but every day of his life he longed for their daily presence, sparse memories of happier times no doubt clouding the multitudinous bleaker ones.

Not so many days ago, Leon, his best mate, had asked Arthur why, if his heart was in Camelot had he moved to Ealdor. Arthur had opened his mouth to answer but had been interrupted and, for one reason or another, he had never answered that question.

Now, at this very second, as he prepared to see his second patient of the day, Arthur pondered the answer.

Why _had_ he decided that coming to Ealdor was a good idea? 

Best mates and beautiful home aside, had Arthur remained in Camelot, there were several doctors in his practice to share the load. In this tiny village, Arthur was it. He was the go-to for everything. Developed an ear-ache? Arthur was your man. Had tummy issues? Arthur was your man. Experienced pain in your shoulder? Arthur was your man.

He did draw the line at veterinary duties, however (and yes, this was the result of an actual appointment someone had scheduled.)

“A new patient to our practice in room seven. Merlin Emrys,” Gwen said, interrupting Arthur’s meandering thoughts. “He didn’t have an appointment, but it is an emergency so you need to see him immediately. He woke up this morning with severe pains in his side. His mother brought him in.”

Arthur took the proffered parchment and nodded as he cleared his throat and prepared for his first child of the day. 

He closed his eyes and asked anyone who cared if they could please spare him the tears today. He could deal with just about anything – he had dealt with all manner of ailments – but the one thing that got him every time were the children who cried. Tears and that damnable trembling bottom lip never failed to upset him.

It was, of course, inexcusable, and Arthur was determined to get over this as soon as possible; he was a professional for goodness sake. He had been trained by the best; he had witnessed open-heart surgery; he had broken the news to families that their loved-ones had died; he had consulted with dying patients about ceasing treatment. And he had accomplished each of these with the demeanour befitting a doctor. It was how it had to be. 

Otherwise Arthur wouldn’t be able to function.

But for some reason the kids always got to him.

Best stop thinking of that and get on with it, Arthur thought as he pushed open the door to room seven, mentally preparing himself for a teary child and an inconsolable mother.

Only… there was no one sitting in the chair that the parents usually sat in. He did see that someone was sitting on the examining table, but they weren’t visible because the white paper that covered the table was on the patient’s head. 

Hm. This one might be difficult.

But at least they looked like an older child, so perhaps they wouldn’t cry. 

That was something. 

Arthur cleared his throat to get his patient’s attention, but the patient remained hidden.

Arthur groaned. He did not have time for this. He was already starving, and it was still early. He cleared his throat again, but again, it didn’t work.

He thought about going out and asking Gwen to get the child’s mother, but that would take time and Arthur was impatient, so he walked up to his patient and tapped on his head.

“Peekaboo!” he said, not so loud that waiting-room patients would hear, but loud enough that the patient should hear him without problem.

The white paper slid off the patient’s head and out popped…

Not a child.

Arthur stood there, his mouth wide open. 

Holy shite.

He was being punished for last night. That was the only explanation.

Yes, the fates had decided that Arthur’s life was not exciting enough and that he needed to have another meeting with the young man he had met the previous night. The same man whose chiseled cheekbones; curly, almost black hair; piercing blue eyes; overly large ears; and the creamiest-looking skin Arthur had ever seen had figured prominently in Arthur's early-morning dreams. The very same person whom he had fucked and been fucked by not so many hours earlier.

“Surprise!” the much-too-exuberant and very young (legal, but still young… too young for Arthur at any rate) mop-top screeched out.

Arthur was not impressed. At all. This was his place of employment. He had taken an oath. His practice was not to be taken lightly. He looked down at the file in his hand and glared. “Merlin Emrys (Arthur was aghast that he hadn’t found out the boy’s name last night; not doing so was inexcusable), do you have any idea how much trouble I could get into? Or how much trouble you could get into? I am guessing you are not suffering from any aches and pains?” he added accusingly.

Merlin looked contrite, far too adorable as he nodded vociferously and glared momentarily before his fey smile reappeared. Arthur was not impressed. Merlin had done a very bad thing and Arthur could not let him think that this was acceptable… lying to get an appointment. “I know you have the ability to speak,” he said authoritatively. “I heard you last night" (oh yes, Arthur had heard Merlin saying glorious things such as _Arthur, you’re a god; you are beautiful; you suck me like a ice lolly, that cock of yours is a gift to mankind….)_ But these were things Arthur best not think about at the moment. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I really did wake up having pains this morning,” Merlin said, his bottom lip sticking out. “My mum insisted I come get it checked out; she brought me. The nice nurse said she would squeeze me in after I told her I had a job interview at eleven and I can’t afford to miss it.”

“You’re not having me on, are you?” Arthur asked skeptically, making a mental note to inform Gwen that as adorable as some of these patents were, she shouldn’t bump other patients down the line; after all, they were sick themselves. They wouldn’t be at a doctor’s office otherwise.

Merlin shook his head and let out a small laugh that was not at all jovial. “I don’t know why I thought you’d be any different. No one ever takes me seriously. All my life I’ve been underestimated. _Ickle Merlin doesn’t know what he wants, sweet Merlin doesn’t need to be bothered with these things….”_

Arthur was unsettled. How was he to react? Was he being played? He didn’t want to think so, but it seemed to be the story of his life that he was played. “What were you doing beneath the paper when I entered?” he asked, not quite sure why, but it seemed as good a question as any at the moment.

At this, Merlin’s cheeks pinked. “I didn’t go home after we parted ways last night. I went to The Rising Sun and had a few too many pints. Did you know that these lights are fucking bright?”

Arthur shook his head. He sure did know how to pick them, didn’t he? “Yes, well,” he began, speaking slowly, not even trying to hide his sarcasm, “this is not a recovery center for those whom abuse alcohol, is it? It is a doctor’s office, a place where I strive to help people, and, to do that, I need to see. Now, having said that,” he added in a gentler tone, “what seems to be the problem with you? I am busy and as you mentioned you have an interview to make. We can always schedule another appointment for later if need be, but if I can alleviate your pain now, that would be preferable (much, much more preferable as Arthur never wanted to see _patient_ Merlin again).

**Later That Evening**

“Are you feeling better?” Arthur asked as he watched Merlin fasten his lap belt.

“Yeah, thanks. Mum wouldn’t let me leave the house after the interview. Lucky for me, she had a date after we ate supper.”

Arthur swallowed. “For heaven’s sake, Merlin, you are nineteen years old. Please don’t tell me you still allow your mother to tell you what to do.” 

“Well, she was worried about me. It’s not as if she was telling me what to do or anything. Mum is cool; she doesn’t care what I do, but when she sees that I’m not feeling well, yeah, she can be overbearing. It’s just what mums do, Arthur.”

And just like that, every doubt Arthur had about Merlin evaporated. He reached his hand across the console, grasped Merlin’s hand in his, and smiled. He still didn’t know why he was here in Ealdor – everything in him screamed that he should have remained in Camelot, where his family and friends were – but what he was finding out now was that there was something here in Ealdor that Arthur needed and wanted. Maybe it wouldn’t last past tonight, and perhaps it was wrong that Arthur was looking too far down the road rather than at the second or moment he was currently in, but Arthur’s idealistic-self wanted to believe that he and Merlin would work.

Now that he thought about it, he liked the idea that the man he was seeing was okay with the fact that their mother cared maybe too much. Arthur, whose own mother had died soon after giving birth to him, had longed for a mum to make it better when he hadn’t felt well. 

“So, what do you want to do tonight?” he asked as he gave Merlin’s hand a small squeeze.

Merlin grinned mischievously. “How about we go to yours and play a game of peekaboo, Dr Pendragon.”


End file.
